


Marinaked

by GalahadWilder



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Embarrassment, F/M, Fluff, Humor, drunk marinette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-06-30 17:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15756576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadWilder/pseuds/GalahadWilder
Summary: Marinette can’t hold her liquor, and Chat Noir doesn’t deal well with naked friends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writing prompt—“Where are your clothes?” Marichat

“Hey, Princess, just checking in on you!” Chat called as he knocked on her skylight. “That Akuma was kind of rough, and I wanted to make sure… that…”

“Kitty!” Marinette said, her eyes as wide as he’d ever seen them, full of delight at his very presence. It was almost enough to distract him. Almost.

“Marinette,” he stammered, “where—where are your clothes?”

Marinette, a COMPLETELY NAKED Marinette, collapsed onto her bed in a pouty huff. “Don’t need ‘em,” she said. “Clothes are for stupids.”

Chat blinked. “Mari, are you DRUNK?”

Marinette giggled. “Alya says I can’t handle my alco-alcomohol,” she said. “Showed her.” She pointed up at Chat. “I’m perfectly sober!”

Chat looked away, trying to cover his eyes. “I can see that,” he said, keeping his voice measured, trying not to betray any hint of the guilt he felt at looking in on his naked classmate. He’d have run as soon as he saw her, but she didn’t seem to be doing too well, and he absolutely needed to make sure she was okay—especially if she was THIS drunk.

“Why aren’t you looking?” Marinette said. “Is it cause I’m not pretty?”

“You’re VERY pretty, Marinette,” Chat said, his eyes still closed. “But you’re also VERY drunk.”

Astonishing. He could actually HEAR her pout. “ADRIEN doesn’t think I’m pretty,” she said.

Wait, what? Why had she just said his name? “Adrien thinks you’re VERY pretty,” he said. “But you’re also naked.”

“Naked’s good,” she said, rolling on her bed like a gleeful slug. “Naked’s sexy. Boys like sexy, don’t they?”

“Marinette—Princess—please put some clothes on.”

Marinette groaned. “Fine, kitty,” she said. “But if Adrien doesn’t kiss me it’s your fault.”


	2. Chapter 2

Saturday morning dawned bright and early over Paris, with not a cloud to mar the bright morning sky.

Marinette, however, did NOT dawn bright and early. At least, not if the responses Alya was getting to her “good morning” texts were any indication. Most of them said something along the lines of “blllg,” “I h8 u alya,” and “oh god let me die.”

Alya grinned as she approached the boulangerie. Hungover Marinette. This would be fun.

She pushed through the door with a cheery jingle of the bells overhead and an equally cheery greeting from Sabine Cheng. “She’s upstairs,” Sabine said, holding her and her husbands’ latest experiment in a pair of tongs. “Would you like to try a naan au chocolate?”

“No, thanks,” Alya laughed, waving the tiny, enthusiastic baker off. “I swore off trying your experiments after the disaster with the waffle pierogi, remember?”

“Hmm.” Sabine set the flatbread-ish-thing (thought it looked more like a puffy taco) down on a tray of similar confections. “Well, head on up, then. If she’s not awake, she should be.”

Alya headed up the stairs to be met with a grumbly mess of a still half-asleep Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who was burying herself in her blankets in order to shut out the sunlight that burned through her skylight like a shining, glittery death of vampires. “Turn it off,” Marinette mumbled.

“What, the sun?” Alya laughed as she climbed up onto Marinette’s bed. “I told you not to drink so much last night.”

“If I let Hawkmoth akumatize me, d’you think he’ll lemme turn off the lights?” Marinette replied, burying her face in her pillow. “Hurts.”

“Come on, Ladybloog, you know that’s a bad idea,” Alya said, massaging her friend’s shoulder with one hand. “Besides, I think he’d just make you hand over the earrings straightaway and then where would you be? Still hungover.”

“Ughgg,” Marinette said. “Least I didn’t vomit.” She turned over and sat up slightly in her bed, pulling her sheets up. “Wait,” she said. “These aren’t the pajamas I went to bed in.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone had a fun night after I walked her home.”

Marinette gasped, her face going as molten red as hot iron as she buried it in her blankets. “Oh, god,” she said. “I think Chat came by last night.”

“So?” Alya replied. “Doesn’t he do that a lot these days?”

Marinette swallowed and covered her face with her hands, one eye peeking out from between her fingers. “I’m not usually naked when he does,” she whispered.

Alya gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “Giiiirl…” she said. She leaned forward and cupped her hands around Marinette’s cheeks. “Details. Now. Spill.”

“Oh god,” Marinette breathed. Her breaths started coming short and rapid. “I was thinking about Adrien and I must’ve taken off the pajamas you put me in, and then Chat showed up and…” She trailed off.

“And?” Alya prompted.

“I think I tried to seduce him,” Marinette whispered. “Oh, god, Alya, what am I going to do?”

Alya brushes hair out of her friend’s eye. “I think you know what,” she said. “You already know he loves you—“

“Ladybug-me, not Marinette-me!”

“—and you apparently feel the same way about him! So why—“

“No! No, I don’t, I’m in love with Adrien, I’m—“

“Mari,” Alya interrupted, pressing down on the girl’s shoulders. “Breathe.”

Marinette pressed her lips together and nodded. “We… we’re supposed to have patrol tonight, Alya,” she said. “I can’t… how am I going to look him in the eye?”

“Do you need me to cover for you?” Alya said, reaching into her shirt and producing the Fox-tail necklace.

Marinette nodded, somehow making the motion encompass her entire body.

“Okay,” Alya said. “We’ll take care of this. I’ll handle Chat for tonight, and you’ll be okay, okay?” She smiled. “Besides, it’s not like he knows it’s you.”

Marinette swallowed. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s not like he knows.”

***

Of course, neither of them realized that, while they were correct in what they believed Chat Noir did NOT know, Marinette had forgotten that she had spilled something else. And now Chat DID know something.

Or rather, Adrien did.


	3. Chapter 3

Chat lay on the roof where he and Ladybug started their patrols, staring up at the half-moon and the starless sky, too exhausted to even think about moving. Last night had been... difficult, to say the least; he’d been plagued by intrusive and traitorous thoughts, fevered imaginings featuring a lovely and _very_ naked classmate that didn’t end when he finally got to sleep—they only got worse. He woke up five different times in need of new pajamas, only to find that the dreams had wired him up too much to fall back asleep again. All told, he’d managed maybe three hours, all of it fitful.

He’d started stumbling over his own feet during the morning fencing meet, losing his first three bouts by four touches each, a display of distress so obvious that Kagami, after kicking his ass, had slapped him in the back of the head and told him to get some sleep. But from there was the photoshoot, and then that new ad campaign dropped so he’d spent the afternoon coordinating hiding spots with Wayhem and Gorilla, and then it was time for patrol and Chat could hardly move his legs.

He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he heard a pair of familiar—but unexpected—leather and spandex shoes hit rooftop behind him.

”Half an hour late,” he mumbled to her. “You okay?”

“Actually,” said Rena, “she called out today.”

Chat’s eyes shot open and he craned his neck backward to see the fox hero standing over him. “Rena?” he said. “I thought LB was on today.”

Rena crossed her arms and smirked. “She’s a bit hungover, so she asked me to cover,” she said. “She may only be half-Chinese but she inherited her mother’s alcohol tolerance.”

Chat closed his eyes and relaxed his neck. Half-Chinese on her mother’s side. File that away for later. “I’m not sure she’d be cool with you sharing personal details like that.”

”Eh,” Rena said, settling down next to him. “Not giving away _that_ much.” She sighed. “You look pretty wrecked yourself, Fuzzface.”

Chat nodded without opening his eyes. “Long day,” he said. “Longer night.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

 _If Adrien doesn’t kiss me it’s your fault,_ the Marinette in his memory said. What had she meant by that? Why had she said his name?

“Do you think drunk people are more honest?” Chat said.

Rena growled. “You better not be planning what I think you’re planning,” she said. “If you try and get her drunk—”

”What? No!” Chat interrupted. “I would never!”

“Good,” Rena replied, running her fingers along the holes of her flute. “Because if you try and ply her identity out while she’s trashed, I _will_ murder you.”

“That’s not it,” Chat said. “But... you know, do you think it’s real?”

Rena shrugged. “Well, Cara does get real cuddly after a glass of red,” she said, “but I apparently have the alcohol tolerance of an English spy, so I don’t exactly have the best sample size.” She pursed her lips. “Why do you ask?”

“I... visited a friend last night.” He sighed. “She said something...”

Rena leaned toward him with a sly grin. “Oh?” she said. “It’s a she, I see. Did she... say...” She waggled her eyebrows.

Chat shoved her shoulder. “Nothing like that, you Volpinockoff,” he laughed. “Though, she, um...” He swallowed. “She _was_ naked when I arrived.”

Rena shoved him back. “You sly dog! Cat. Catdog.”

”I didn’t look!” he protested, palms held out. “I swear!”

Rena shook her head. “Can’t believe she still thinks you’re a flirt,” she murmured. “So, did it make you... reconsider anything, vis-a-vis this friend of yours?”

”Um, sort of,” Chat said, closing his eyes. “See, the thing is... she mentioned me. When she was rambling.”

“And?”

He opened his eyes again. “Civilian-me.”

Rena gasped, covering her mouth with her gloved hand. “Oh.”

”She seemed... very insistent on kissing me. Him.” Chat drummed his claws on the rooftop. “I’m sort of.... lost? She’s cute and all, but—”

Rena grabbed his chin, forced his face her direction and suddenly her gaze was drilling into his eyes. “What did she say?” she whispered.

Chat swallowed. “She said... um... she said I—he—didn’t think she was sexy? That if he didn’t kiss her it was my fault for...” He coughed. “For making her put her clothes back on.”

Rena stared at him for a few seconds, then bolted to her feet. “Hey sorry, gotta cut patrol short!” she said with a jaunty, albeit panicky, wave. “Got things to take care of, homework to do, little sisters, you know the drill.” She launched herself over the side of the building without even giving him a second to respond.

Chat’s eyebrows furrowed. What the hell was _that_  about?

”Oh, hey,” Rena said, suddenly popping back into view. “Your hair doesn’t change color when you transform, does it?”

Chat, bewildered, only had time to shake his head before she’d vanished once more.


	4. Chapter 4

Marinette’s night was not going particularly well. Her hands were shaking, so she couldn’t try and sew anything without stabbing herself, couldn’t try to bake anything without burning herself, and all her sketches came out as absolute messes. She tried to start her homework, but the words on the page kept blurring and moving, and every third second she lost concentration. So instead she sat on her bed, knees hugged to her chest, and tried not to hyperventilate. Without much success.

What had she said to Chat?

”I’m sure it’s okay, Marinette,” Tikki said, patting her knee. “You know Chat cares about you. There’s nothing you could have said that would change that.”

Marinette groaned. “Maybe I should just move to the Himalayas,” she said.

Tikki nodded. “Tibet _is_ lovely this time of year.” She smiled. “But the temple is gone, so I guess you have to stay here.”

Marinette sent her a whithering look. “You’ve been spending too much time with Plagg,” she said.

Tikki giggled. “You’ll be fine!” she said. “We’re Ladybug. Worst-case scenarios don’t happen to us!”

As if to prove her wrong, a body slammed into Marinette’s skylight.

Marinette shrieked, threw herself backward, slammed her head into the wall, and shrieked again, too loud to hear the muffled “holy shit, holy shit, holy shit” coming from the other side of the glass.

Rena Rouge flung open the skylight, belly-flopping into Marinette’s bed as with a shimmering golden yellow light deposited her as Alya onto the mattress. She bolted to her knees, grabbing a shocked and terrified Marinette by the shoulders.

“ _He’s_ _not_ _Luka_!” Alya cried with glee.

”I—I—I—what?”

Alya squealed with delight. “He said his hair doesn’t change color when he transformed so he can’t be Luka!”

Marinette’s mouth wobbled, trying to decide whether it would make sense to spill the gibberish currently sitting on her tongue or say nothing at all without settling on either one.

Alya shook her vigorously. “Don’t you know what that means?”

Marinette swallowed. “He’s... blond?”

”Yes!” Alya screamed, clapping her hands together. “Or... Wait.” She put a finger to her chin. “Yes. But—shit. I skipped something, didn’t I.”

”Yes!” Marinette yelled, before settling back down into bed. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Alya sighed, straightening her hair with her hand. “Okay so you seducing him last night definitely worked, boy was totally wrecked tonight,” she said, trying (and failing) to keep her words at a reasonable pace. “Seriously I don’t think he got _any_ sleep.”

Marinette’s face went slack with horror. “Alya!” she yelped. “That’s awful!”

”You always wanted him to notice you instead of Ladybug, didn’t you?” Alya said, gripping Marinette’s shoulder _too tight too tight. “_ Now he is!”

Marinette tried to pull away, but Alya’s grip was firm. “Wait, it gets better,” the reporter said. “He said you mentioned him last night by _name_.” She lowered her voice and waggled her eyebrows. “By _civilian_ name.”

Marinette’s jaw slipped open. “We... I... know him?” she said. “Chat Noir is someone we know?”

Alya shook her head. “Not just know him, girl,” she said with a smile. “He said you were complaining about not kissing him.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “And he’s not Luka...”

Alya’s grin grew wider. “That’s right,” she said, squeezing Marinette’s shoulder even harder. “The boy who stayed up all night masturbating to thoughts of you is none other than our very own Adrien Agreste.”

Marinette stared, completely slack-jawed. Nothing in her life, _nothing_ , could have ever prepared her for this. This was... this was...

He _knew_. Oh god, he KNEW.

”Mari?” Alya said. “Are you... okay?”

Mari snatched up a pillow, buried her face, and screamed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2,000th comment I received was literally a request for the next chapter of this fic. So, in celebration of that comment: here it is!

Adrien had hoped that the funk he’d been in all weekend would have subsided by Monday. He’d managed not to think about it all Sunday—to the point that if he wasn’t focused on it he would completely forget what it was that distracted him but _shit now he was thinking about her think about fencing think about fencing_ okay good. He breathed out, eyes closed. It was off his mind. He was gonna be okay.

Then he saw her, and he knew he was good and fucked.

She was walking with Alya, laughing about... something, and suddenly there she was again, in her room, naked and sultry and _smiling_  and beckoning him forward and _fuck_!

He leaped behind a tree, trying to hide his burning face. _Can’t let her see me._ He huffed, trying to control his breathing, to bring down his blood pressure, to get the images of her out of his head. _Ladybug, focus on Ladybug. You love Ladybug!_

 _”_ Hey, uh, you okay?”

”Agh!” Adrien shrieked, jerking backward and slamming into the tree. “Ow!”

”I’m sorry!” Myléne yelped. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Adrien sighed, bending over and grasping his stomach. “It’s... you’re okay,” he said. “I’m just on edge today.”

Myléne glanced around the tree—then giggled. “Oh, is this about Marinette?” she said. “That’s so sweet!”

“Ngah!” Adrien yelped, covering his head. He collapsed against the the side of the tree. “Please,” he moaned. “ _Please_ don’t say her name.”

Myléne sat down next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adrien shook his head with a whimper.

Myléne patted his shoulder. “You’re going to have to face her eventually,” she said.

He nodded. “I know,” he whispered.

Myléne stood and offered him her hand. “Come on, Adrien,” she said. “Class is starting soon. You don’t want to be late...” She shuddered.

”Yeah... yeah,” Adrien said. “Give me a few minutes.”

”Okay...” Myléne said. “I can’t cover for you for very long, though. I mean I’ll try but...”

Adrien smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “I know that must’ve been hard for you to...” He shook his head. “I think I’m okay, actually.” He took her hand.

She smiled. “Marinette really cares about you, you know.”

”I’m...” He shook his head. _Don’t_. “I’m starting to realize that, yeah.” _Ladybug_. “Any advice?”

Myléne smiled. “Don’t go too overboard,” she said. She pressed her pointer fingers together, twisted. “Make the confession simple. If you wait for the perfect moment, or the perfect words—”

”I’m...” Adrien sighed. _Good advice if I was planning to confess something. But I don’t—_

Marinette laughing. Like sunshine.

He covered his face with hands and groaned.

* * *

He could handle Marinette. He could handle Marinette. It was just Marinette. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had these kinds of thoughts about her before—she was a beautiful, strong, intelligent girl, and he was an adolescent boy with a weakness for exceptional women. He’d long been aware of his burgeoning crush on her, but he’d never let them distract him—whether from class or from Ladybug—before.

But that was before he’d learned she wanted to kiss him too. And that was before he’d seen her naked.

Myléne was humming a happy tune as the two of them turned to enter the classroom. He followed her in, trying to look anywhere but at Marinette, to keep his eyes away—

No good.

They locked eyes, and both of them froze.

Adrien couldn’t breathe. He was stuck there, in the doorway, all of his muscles paralyzed as the details of his dreams from the last three nights flashed through his mind as his stomach jumped into his throat and began to strangle. He wanted her. Oh, god, he wanted her.

But she wasn’t breathing either. Her eyes, so impossibly blue, blown wide at the sight of him, her face pinking into a lovely and enticing red. She stared at him, halfway to the chair, and something in him suddenly realized— _she knew._

Wait, no, not possible. Even if she remembered him dropping by, she couldn’t possibly know he was Chat Noir.

Alya patted Marinette on the back. “Breathe, girl,” she whispered.

Marinette gasped, collapsing into her chair and slumping forward with a sob.

Adrien swallowed. Today was going to be _terrible_.

* * *

Marinette wasn’t doing particularly well herself. She knew that the second Adrien walked into the room she’d be screwed...

She hadn’t been expecting the look on his face when he saw her. Or the blush. Or the... everything.

She managed to ignore him for most of the morning, until Alya’s phone rang just before lunch. She pulled it out, then looked up at Marinette. “ _Akuma_ ,” she mouthed.

Marinette smiled. Finally, a distraction—wait.

She turned, caught a glimpse of the boy in front of her Adrien. Adrien was Chat Noir.

She whined and buried her face in her hands.

 


	6. Chapter 6

EVERYTHING WAS TERRIBLE FOREVER.

”Oh-ho-hooooooh my god,” Rena said, staring. “Kitty is _cut_.”

”Oh my god!” Queen Bee shrieked, covering her eyes. “Put on a blanket or something!”

 _Oh my god_ , Ladybug thought, trying not to stare.

Chat was completely naked except for his mask, his ears, and his underwear—Ladybug-pattern boxer shorts. His skin was as red as his underwear as he tried to cover his chest with naked hands, avoiding everyone’s eyes as best he could.

They hadn’t even been fighting the Akuma for ten minutes and Ladybug had kept slipping up, distracted by the closeness of her partner/crush because, even though he didn't know what he'd seen, she was mortified at the mere thought of him. Moreover, now that she knew who he was, she couldn’t keep denying how _hot_ she thought Chatdrien was. Every time he entered her field of vision she lost her focus, but trying not to look at him was even _worse_. She’d left herself wide open, a prime target for the Akuma’s primary attack. Of course she should’ve expected Chat to tank it for her.

Ladybug was completely frozen as her partner—as the _love of her life_ —whined in distress over having what little dignity he hadn’t sacrificed to his awful sense of humor stripped from him. Oh, god. The things she’d imagined doing to that chest and those legs...

She counted herself lucky that Adrien was a boxers man, because if she’d seen any more of the shape of his ass she thought she might pass out.

"Carapace," Chat said, "can I please borrow your shield?"

Carapace shook his head. "Hell no," he said. "Don't want to deprive the world of the glory of that chest."

"Babe!" Rena yelped.

"What?" Carapace said, not even bothering to hide his staring. "You're the one who proposed the Ladynoir exception clause."

"OKAY!" Ladybug yelped. "Everyone calm down!"  _Especially me, that would be lovely, thank you._  "We—we've still got an Akuma to chase."

Rena smirked. “Not you, Buggy,” she said. “I think you’re distracted enough today. You should...” One eyebrow raised behind her mask. “...stay behind.”

Ladybug growled. “ _I’m going to kill you_ ,” she whispered, too low for the rest of the team to hear.

Rena just winked and kissed the air, then turned to Carapace and Bee. “Come on, losers,” she said. “We’ve got an Akuma to catch.”

”Who put you in charge?” Bee screeched as the three of them charged across the rooftops in the direction the villain had run. Leaving Ladybug alone with a very-nearly-naked Chat Noir.

She tried not to look, she really did. But Rena was right: the boy was an Adonis—unsurprising, now that she knew who he was, but still. The things she wanted to do to that chest... _Unf_. She bit her lip, trying to ignore the steam that was no doubt blasting from her ears.

“Ladybug?” Chat croaked. “Could—could I get some pants, please?”

Ladybug blinked, shook her head. “R-right!” she said, fumbling for her yo-yo. “Um... Lucky... Lucky Charm?”

A mess of red polka-dotted flannel fell into her hands. She unfolded it to find a Ladybug onesie, perfectly sized for Chat Noir and a zipper down the front. She groaned, holding it out to him. “Tikki hates me.”

”I’ll take what I can get,” Chat said, relief filling his voice. He took the onesie from her hands, unzipping it and hurriedly stepping in.

”I’m surprised,” Ladybug said, pointedly not looking at him while he dressed. “I figured you’d be more comfortable being shirtless around people.”

”What do you mean?” Chat said, as she heard him zip up the front of the pajamas.

"Well, cause you're a..." Ladybug trailed off, then mentally slapped herself. He didn't know that  _she_ knew that he was a model, and she couldn't just... drop that on him. "You know, you're always so, so..." She flexed her bicep the way he always did when he was trying to show off. "That."

He giggled, padding up behind her. "My Lady, I didn't know you noticed."

She turned and flicked the tip of his nose. "Hard not to when you keep flaunting it, Kitty Cat."

"What can I say," he said. "Call me 1080p cause these muscles are  _defined_ —is Rena wearing  _lingerie?_ " He narrowed his eyes, peering off into the distance.

"She's  _what?_ " Ladybug cackled, her head snapping around in the same direction, and  _yep_ , Rena Rouge's suit—except for the mask and ears—had vanished and she was definitely wearing a lace jade bra-and-panty set, highlighted in the same lime as Carapace's chest plates, which she'd commissioned from Marinette not a month before. Ladybug shaded her eyes. "Must be date night," she said, then shoved Chat Noir in the shoulders with a smile. "I guess you've just lost the award for most embarrassing underwear choice of the day."

"Come on," Chat smirked, jostling her right back. "Like you're  _not_ wearing underwear with me all over it."

"I'm not, you stupid—" she began, then her throat froze up as she realized that she  _was_ , in fact, wearing Agreste brand underpants today and thus his name was, in fact, written on her underwear. "Oh, Kwami-dammit."

Chat jerked. "Wait," he said, his voice strangled. "You  _are?_ "

Ladybug groaned as she felt the heat rising in her face. "Can you just... have Plagg disintegrate me, please?" she muttered into her hands.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patrol was originally supposed to be with Carapace but then I wrote in the date night thing, and well...

Chat Noir had not had a good day.

To start with, there’d been the whole Marinette problem. Every single time she so much as breathed behind him his chest had gotten tight, the tips of his ears burning, as he was forcibly reminded of what he’d seen, as well as the content of some of his filthier dreams; it was a wonder he’d been able to concentrate at all, to write notes beyond _Naked Mari Naked Mari Naked Mari._

And then—and _then_ he’d lost his shirt during the Akuma fight. Embarrassing enough on its own, but normally he could’ve expected Ladybug’s professionalism to keep the rest of the team in line. Instead, the attitude he’d respected since day one and come to expect as a given had utterly evaporated: Ladybug had been basically _drooling_ over his abs. She’d been staring at him the way Plagg looked at Camembert right before he swallowed it whole, like she wanted to just—well. And _then_... he’d basically had to get naked again for Ladybug to cast the cure—only for her to get so distracted staring at him that she’d _dropped the pajamas_  about four stories, and Queen Bee had had to swing down and grab them because nobody else had been in any condition to concentrate (especially with Carapace absolutely boggled over his sneak peek of his girlfriend’s outfit for the evening).

Too little sleep and the constant bouncing of his thoughts between the two women was frying his poor kitty brain. Honestly, he was lucky he’d made it to patrol at all, much less without tripping over his own two feet—or over something else that was making it rather hard for him to run.

Though his partner for the evening certainly seemed to think otherwise.

"Ugh!” Queen Bee yelled from a rooftop across the street, throwing up her hands. “You are utterly useless tonight, you know that?”

Chat shook his head, trying to dispel thoughts of Marinette’s fingers on his skin or Ladybug’s lips on his face. “S-Sorry!” he yelped. “I’ll... hang on. Be there in a sec.”

Queen Bee groaned. “What’s the point?” she said. She bent her legs, bounding across the street to land next to him with a scatter of shingles. “You’re just going to keep mooning over her all evening anyway, might as well stop here.”

Chat grumbled. He wanted to say he wasn’t mooning, but... he was. He totally was.

Queen Bee clapped his shoulder. “Come on, Hairball,” she said. “Why the long face? I figured you’d be _happy_ you finally got with Ladybug.”

Chat narrowed his eyebrows and shot her a sidelong glance. “Got with?”

Queen Bee frowned. “Wait,” she said. “You’re not...?”

Chat snorted, shaking his head, and decided that standing was for chumps. He collapsed onto his butt.

”Oh, come on!” Queen Bee said, joining him on the ground/roof much more gracefully, crossing her legs as she sat. “We all saw the way she was looking at you today, you had to have done _something._ ”

Chat shook his head and shrugged. “If something happened, I don’t know about it.”

“Well, damn,” Queen Bee said. She put a finger to her chin. “So... she’s still available...?” she said, more to herself than Chat.

“Bee,” Chat growled.

Bee’s eyes widened and she clenched her fists against the tiles of the roof. “ _I said that out loud?”_ she said, a horrified blush filling her cheeks.

Chat snorted again, the settled back onto his arms. “Hey, uh, Chloé?” he said. “You’re in the same class as... as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right?”

Queen Bee blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “You _know_ her?”

”Yeah, she’s a...” Chat bit his lip. “She’s a friend.”

Bee’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god,” she said, shoving his shoulder. “You have a _crush_!”

Chat crossed his arms above his head and ducked, trying to ward off further snacks to the upper body. “I do not!” he yelped, but it sounded weak even to him. He could feel his human ears burning as his face turned red, and he sighed, lowering his arms and looking at Queen Bee with what he hoped was a plaintive expression. “Please,” he said. “Don’t tell Ladybug.”

Queen Bee placed her hand over her mouth, fingers touching her lips, trying to hold in her laughter but not really doing that at all.

”I’m serious!” Chat yelped. His face fell. “She’ll think I’m... she’ll... she’ll think I’m  a cad.”

”Oh, Chat,” Bee said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You can do better than Dupain-Cheng.” She waved her other hand in a sort of half-shrug. “Besides, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Chat turned to her, questioning.

Bee sighed. “You know my friend Adrien Agreste? The model?”

Chat’s lips twisted upward in a wry grin.

Bee nodded. “She’s completely head-over-heels for him,” she said, and Chat felt his heart leap. Marinette... she liked him? Like... more than like?

He almost didn’t notice when Queen Bee looked away and her eyes grew somber. “Nobody else has ever been able to catch her eye,” she murmured, her voice dripping with disappointment.

Chat blinked. “Wait a second,” he said. “You—do _you_ have a crush?”

”What!?” Bee shrieked, throwing her hands up, palms toward him. “No, I—I’m not—I don’t—I’m straight...” She trailed off, horrified.

Chat smirked. “Are you telling me,” he said, “that you _wouldn’t_ kiss Ladybug if you had the chance?”

Bee grimaced. “That doesn’t count,” she muttered. “Everyone would.”

Chat opened his mouth to reply, but then his cat ears twitched at the familiar wizz-crack of Ladybug’s yo-yo. He turned, confused—it wasn’t her turn to patrol, what was she...

Ladybug tripped halfway up the roof, rolling forward and smacking straight into Chat's chest. They both stumbled, but he wrapped his arms around her, trying his best to hold her up.

"Thissss... it’s your fault, you stupid..." She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "Stupid... pretty... face!" She giggled, then went limp, collapsing into Chat's arms.

"Ladybug?" Chat gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Mmmmmmfine," she drawled. Then she giggled. "Don't tell Tikki," she whispered. "She thinks I'm  _home_."

"Oh my god," Queen Bee said, covering her mouth. "She's  _drunk_."

 


End file.
